Hey guys! You probably all know by now but if you don't, I just want to let you know about the discord I've got for fanfiction. Nearly 70 people in the server now and its active at pretty much any point of the day. Lots of great fics have been recommended for a number of different fandoms, and a few writers have joined as well. I'm happy to answer any questions about my own fics on there as well. It's a lot of fun! Fanfictions is weird with links but instructions to join are in my profile!

Chapter 6

I was alone in a seemingly endless field of long, green grass, listening to the wind howl under a dark bank of storm clouds. The reeds blew in the wind, looking like an ocean of green, tumbling waves in a typhoon. My bare feet dug into the soft dirt.

I shouldn't be here.

How did I get here again? Try as I might to remember, my mind was blank.

I slowly turned in a circle, taking in my surroundings. The field stretched for miles in every direction, and the wind was quickly becoming so fierce that I thought it might pluck me up like a bird would a bug. I was forced to hold up an arm to shield my eyes from the gale, but it wasn't the wind that was worrying me. I couldn't see anything but swaying grass and rolling hills for miles around, but the threat couldn't have been any more obvious to me. There was something here far more threatening than the wild weather, of that I was certain.

I could feel it deep in my bones, a dangerous tension that hung in the air and had the hairs on my arms and legs standing straight. My eyes stung as I fought to keep them open, and my muscles strained from how tense they were. Despite my attention, it felt as if I were barely registering what was going on. My heart was beating so hard I could be forgiven for worrying the pressure might crack my ribcage, but I could still see nothing—just empty, rolling hills."

Finally, there was sound other than the howling wind, a sharp cry from behind and off in the distance. A flock of Pidgeys took off into the air from the source of the noise, flying straight over my head, cawing and shrieking as they escaped whatever had disrupted their previous tranquility. I wanted to take off after them, but my legs were rooted to the ground, refusing to move. They were so stiff and solid it was like the roots of the grass had risen up and ensnared me like vines in the jungle. My crutches were nowhere to be seen.

I could feel the danger coming, whatever it was. Moments dragged into eternities. A roar sounded in the distance, deep and loud and terrifying. Even though the wind was fierce and biting, it was the roar that made my blood chill. I kept trying to move, to get away to anywhere that wasn't here. My legs refused to budge and my mouth felt dry and my chest felt tight and why couldn't I just—

Thump.

The ground shook with the noise, and I froze.

Thump.

My chest felt like it was caught in a vice, my lungs refused to pump more oxygen.

Thump.

Lightning rippled across the sky, but I couldn't see anything.

Thump.

The sound was getting closer, only half masked by the booming thunder that cracked over my head.

Thump.

Slow movement caught my eye over the crest of the nearest hill. Three blood red spikes rose into view, followed by a head of blue skin and sharp fangs. By the time the creature was in full view, my heart was beating so fast I thought it might give out. The beast looked like it was twice my size and so much more muscular. It's jaw looked massive and powerful, probably able to bite clean through a car motor with little effort. I couldn't help but picture myself being chewed to bits and swallowed by the creature.

It was a Pokemon, that was definite, but not like any I'd seen. It's skin appeared to be light blue, although it often fluctuated between that and a deep purple. The color shifted like shadows passing over each other in a very abnormal way. It had blood red spikes atop its head with a humped back ending in a long and muscular tail. It stood on two legs and had two arms, both armed with razor sharp claws.

It's eyes met mine after a suspenseful moment, and it continued forward.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Every one of its footsteps made the ground quake underneath me, but I could do nothing but stand frozen in fear.

It stopped when it was about ten feet away, close enough that I could see clear into its eyes. They glowed red, and I could see the spark of malice in them. The Pokemon had a sort of… dark energy emanating from every scaly patch of skin, leaving a trail of dark, ethereal-looking blur that distorted the air similar to heat on a hot day.

My breaths were shallow and quick; my limbs refused to move so much as an inch. The creature held me in its gaze for a long moment. Time seemed to stand still as if the hourglass of the universe was suddenly filled with wet sand.

With another roar loud enough to burst my eardrums, the creature charged with a speed that didn't seem at all possible with its bulk. A scream stuck in my throat as I flinched backwards. The last thing I saw was the dark inside of it's cavernous maw.

I sat up quickly enough upon waking to nearly throw Growlithe off my bed in Hagrid's hut. If he'd still been asleep, curled into my side as he was most mornings, I'd have probably sent him sprawling to the floorboards. Instead, he was already awake, laying next to my head on my pillow and watching me intently with concern in his dark eyes.

I lifted a hand to my chest to calm my erratic breathing. Growlithe crawled forward to climb into my lap, front paws above my knees as he stretched forward to press his wet nose to my cheek. He let out a soft whine—quiet enough that it wouldn't wake Fang nor Hagrid—and gently licked my cheek. My forehead was drenched in sweat; the ones Growlithe missed ran in droplets down my face and into Growlithe's orange fur. My heart thumped in my chest, my brain working overtime to work out what the hell kind of dream I'd just had.

My scar burned.

For a moment, I froze, and then I lifted a hand to trace it. It had never done that before. If it had, I might have chalked the dream up to a simple nightmare. No matter how real it had seemed, it was entirely possible there was nothing truly unusual about it—just an abnormally lucid dream. But not if my scar was burning. That meant my instincts about it had to be right. Nothing about that dream had been normal.

I carded my fingers into Growlithe's fur, letting my head rest on top of his as my breathing finally started to even out. He was giving me his best worried expression in the form of large, puppy eyes as I let out a heavy sigh. On the other side of the partition that separated my room from the rest of the cottage, Hagrid snored peacefully, unaware of my nightmare.

"Sorry, Growlithe," I whispered so as not to wake the half-giant. "Bad dream."

Growlithe nuzzled his face into mine, a low rumble coming from deep in his throat. I wasn't surprised to find him trying to comfort me. According to Hagrid, having a Growlithe as a partner meant that I was luckier than most. As a species, they were known to be amongst the most loyal of Pokemon—willing to do anything to protect and keep their humans happy.

That was backed up by everything I'd read since. The first morning that I'd woken up at Hagrid's he'd dumped a pile of books on the end of my bed—so many that they must have weighed at least as much as I did. Every one of them was from the Hogwarts library, and all of them about Pokemon. Naturally, I'd read up just about everything I could about Growlithe so I could better understand why I'd gotten so lucky. I was no closer to solving that particular mystery.

Still, after two weeks of doing barely nothing else but reading, I knew a whole lot more about Growlithe than I had before. For example, now I knew that his sense of smell was powerful enough that he could actually smell my emotional state, hence his trying to comfort me after my nightmare. In reality, my distress was probably the reason he'd woken before me. I'd have felt guilty for waking him up, but the nightmare left me shaken, and his support was relieving.

It was still early enough to be dark outside, and my vision was blurred from too little sleep, but I still threw my blanket off and swung my legs off the side of the bed. The pain in my scar was slowly subsiding, but I could still see the strange Pokemon in my mind's eye like it was still in front of me, it's huge jaw opening wide to swallow me whole.

I had to know if it was real or not. The books Hagrid had gotten me might just have the answer.

Being a squib in a wizarding house didn't always make things easy. Though, Hagrid was supposed to be banned from using magic himself—for reasons that he still wouldn't tell me—he'd always used charms and spells for lighting up his cottage. I couldn't do that. I stumbled past the partition, feeling my way with my crutches to find the battery powered lantern Remus had bought for me. Growlithe moved ahead of me, his bright orange fur guiding my way.

My fingers found the handle of the lantern just on the other side of the partition without making too much noise somehow. Then again, Hagrid probably wouldn't have woken even if I'd been out in his kitchen banging pots and pans together. The half-giant could sleep like the dead, though the dead probably wouldn't have been able to snore quite so loud. Fang the Houndoom slept at the end of his bed, flipped onto his back to show his belly with a lack of fear he would never show if he was awake.

I flicked it on and headed back to what was more or less my bedroom, of course, it was less a room and more a small section of the hut separated by giant furniture. My books lay in a pile on the floor, lying adjacent to the path I tried to leave around my bed so I could get around with my crutches.

I grabbed a few of the books at random and climbed back under the covers, feeling the bed shift as Growlithe jumped up beside me, sitting upright and gazing at the books like he was going to try and help me solve the mystery. I pat him on the head, and with a smile, I threw the first open.

It probably wouldn't be of any help. It was more about type advantages and battle techniques than about finding a particular Pokemon. Even if it was more focused on Pokemon, I didn't exactly have much to go off. The Pokemon in my dream hadn't even used any moves of a particular type, so I didn't even have that as a basis. More than that, it's appearance didn't totally reveal anything about a particular typing it might have, though it probably ruled a few out.

I flipped open more and more of the books, skimming through the pages until long after the sun came up and my battery powered lantern ran out of juice. Growlithe had since laid down, half sprawled on my lap, but he still watched with alert eyes. I found what I was looking for maybe an hour after the sunrise.

"I think that's it, Growlithe!" I whispered, pointing down at the page. Growlithe looked up at me and tilted his head to the side. He hadn't experienced the dream for himself, so it's not entirely impossible he was beginning to think he'd attached himself to a young trainer losing his sanity. Then again, given his astonishing level of loyalty, that thought was probably laughable.

"Feraligatr…" I read the name of the Pokemon under its picture in the book. A water type apparently native to the Johto region. What I'd seen was clearly a Feraligatr, at least in terms of its body shape and size, but nothing else about the Pokemon from my dreams seemed right.

"What was wrong with the one I saw in my dream?" I wondered aloud. The one in the book was bright blue, and the information written seemed to suggest that the Pokemon would only be hostile if threatened or attacked—or in defense of its own family. The one I'd seen had attacked me on sight without hesitation. More than that, the way its scales glowed with that purple energy…

It was no mere dream.

Unless, was it? I didn't think I'd ever seen the Pokemon before, but I'd skimmed through most of the books that Hagrid had bought me, so maybe I'd seen its picture before? Was it at all possible that my own psyche had taken the picture from the textbook and made it the stuff of nightmares? Had given it a dark, evil aura and glowing red eyes? I frowned as doubt started creeping in.

It didn't seem right… and yet, what was the alternative? That I was somehow dreaming about something really happening? That was a magical trait—and I sure as hell didn't have any magic.

I reached up to my scar, though it had since stopped burning completely. Even so, I wasn't forgetting the dream like I would any other. I could still see the vicious beast's mouth opening wide to tear me limb from limb as though it were a memory I'd had while awake. The clarity of the dream and the pain in my scar occurring together would be a very unlikely coincidence.

I didn't get the chance to dwell on my confusion. Lost as I was in my thoughts, I hadn't even noticed when Hagrid's snoring had stopped, and he was poking his head around the partition.

"Morning 'Arry," he yawned, scratching at his bushy beard. His hair was matted on one side where he'd slept on it, making his usual caveman appearance even more wild than it normally was. Still, he was smiling, and that alone was enough to pull me from the darkness of my nightmare. At Hagrid's, I didn't have to worry. I had him, and I had Growlithe.

"Want to head up to the Hall for a spot o' breakfast?"

Breakfast started out as uneventful as always, as it had been every morning in the two weeks I'd been staying with Hagrid. I sat with Neville like always, though our conversations still never seemed to grow beyond pleasantries and small-talk. He was too nervous to start too many conversations, and I was too uncertain about what to say even if he did. Mostly he would ask me about being a Pokemon trainer, to which I couldn't actually say much, having only one Pokemon and no real adventures. Occasionally, he would talk about his classes, but as a squib it was hard to relate to those.

Far more often we ate in awkward silence. It's not that I didn't want to talk to him, but honestly, I spent most of our meal times wondering what I should actually say. I'd never had a friend before, and since Neville seemed to be the only one who wanted to talk to the school squib, I didn't want to scare him away or offend him by saying something wrong. Unfortunately, Growlithe wasn't much help for long. There was only so much time we could spend giving him some attention during lunch time. After my strange dream, though, my curiosity was enough to overtake that instinct.

"Hey, Neville?"

Neville looked up from his cereal with just a hint of the nerves he'd had when he first met. One of his eyebrows was raised in question.

"Do you ever have strange dreams?" I had to ask the question. I couldn't shake the memories of it—and frankly, even the fact that I could remember it so vividly at all was odd. Most dreams I had were forgotten as soon as I awoke. That I could remember it so well and that it had made my scar burn… I just couldn't stop thinking about it. This wasn't something I could just shake off.

Neville hesitated for a moment before speaking in a quiet voice and leaning across the table like he was about to tell me a big secret. "Well, I once had a dream that Professor Snape was actually a vampire—"

"No," I cut him off and shook my head firm. "I don't mean strange as in just a bit weird… but more like… do you ever dream things that you think might be real?"

Neville sent me another questioning glance before shaking his head. "You mean seer dreams? Those are very rare. The last true seer I heard of was Professor Trelawney's grandmother."

Neville shifted his gaze towards the teachers table and landed on a woman with wild hair covered in bejeweled shawls. Her glasses were so thick they magnified her eyes multiple times the size they actually were. She was seated next to Professor McGonagall, urging her to look in the crystal ball she'd brought along. Professor McGonagall did not look amused, or even slightly interested, as she diligently looked at her plate as she ate.

On appearance alone, I immediately discounted her as an option to ask any questions. Growlithe seemed to agree if his snort of dismissal was any indication.

"Why do you ask?" Neville asked slowly, his tone not doing anything to hide his curiosity.

The fact that he'd heard of only one true seer in recent memory made me feel like an utter idiot. Asking about seers because I had one stupid dream? I felt completely foolish. I was a squib—having any sort of prophetic dreams was completely impossible.

"Oh, never mind," I disregarded Neville's question. I was hardly about to admit that I thought I'd had one. Even if he didn't decide that I was crazy, which he probably should, he'd give me the same pitying eyes that everyone else in Hogwarts did when it came to my being a squib. I hated that look. "I was just curious."

"Oh, you're talking about seers?" A girl with a bushy mane of brown hair and somewhat overly large front teeth strided up just as Growlithe huffed quietly to alert him to the new company. She dropped a thick, heavy tome on the table and planted herself next to Neville, not even really gazing up to see who she was talking to and not even giving Growlithe a glance. Like always, Neville looked uncomfortable. Growlithe, on the other hand, didn't look uncomfortable, but he was still carefully assessing her. "I'm not sure I put much stock in the subject, myself. It's all a bit wishy-washy. Ancient Runes on the other hand—"

The girl seemed to finally look up and across the table, her voice dropping off the second her eyes landed on my scar. "Oh! You're Harry Potter! I've read all about you, of course. You were one of the first chapters I read in my history textbooks after I went to Diagon Alley with Professor McGonagall. 'The boy who lived.'"

"You must be quite curious as to how it all happened. Rather infuriating that after so much study they still don't know how you managed to survive. After all, the killing curse doesn't do any physical damage to the body. For a long time wizards theorized that it perhaps gave the victim an intense heart attack or stroke, but once muggle technology evolved they were able to study it more and more. Do you think perhaps instead it dislodges the soul? But then, how would that explain how your survival as a squib with monoplegia of the leg?"

In the span of what must only have been a single minute, one girl I didn't even know the name of had conversed more with me than any other student in the first two weeks. I was stunned into silence for a moment. Growlithe shifted until he was leaning against my leg in a show of silent support. I reached down to pat at his head, and to prevent him from barking or growling at her. In only two weeks he'd shocked me many times with the level of understanding he had of human speech. No doubt he didn't like how uncomfortable the girls questions were making me feel.

I'd never met anyone like her before. Lots of people liked to talk and discuss things, but never so much, and never with me. Despite the awkwardness of the topic, I had no idea how to properly answer her, but I somehow managed to come up with a reply.

"I guess… I've never really thought about it that much?"

The girl frowned as if she didn't understand the meaning of the words. "How could you not? I'd be trying to find any information I could! How do you stand your own life being such a mystery?"

I blinked at her. I'd been asked similar questions before, of course, but never so directly. Most people tended to skirt around it, dancing around with their words before asking more subtle questions, like it was almost forbidden. Not this girl. She didn't seem to care, or perhaps not even realize how forward she was being or that her questions were more than a little uncomfortable. In a weird way though, her confidence and lack of discomfort about the questions she was asking made them feel a whole lot more normal. I definitely felt more insecure when people were tiptoeing around the issue as if I should or would be ashamed to talk about it. It was a bit refreshing actually.

Still, I genuinely hadn't spent a great deal of time thinking about it. I'd been a crippled squib for as long as I could remember, so me looking at what I could have been otherwise always seemed a waste of time—not to mention probably very depressing. I had no idea how to answer her questions, though.

"I guess I am a mystery," I conceded. "But it's not like I can go and search for a magical answer myself…"

I didn't mean for my answer to guilt her, but as soon as the words flew out my mouth I knew it's how it must have sounded. She flinched as though I'd struck her and she paled considerably. "I didn't mean to—"

"No!" I cut her off. "I didn't mean for it to sound like—"

An awkward silence followed with Neville looking extremely uncomfortable. Soon, both she and I were both laughing. It was probably just a result of the sheer awkwardness, but it felt natural—a proper, genuine laugh. Neville looks like he's desperately trying to understand, but confusion is all that appears on his face. When we stopped laughing, the girl spoke in a more serious, softer voice.

"I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I've been told I can be a little too analytical. My name is Hermione Granger," she introduces. Neville nods along with her admission before looking guiltily away when she turns to look at him.

"Oh, and I've always wanted to say hello to your Growlithe!" she added, craning her neck over the table to see the Pokemon sitting loyally at my side like always. At the mention of his name, Growlithe glanced at me, looking for my nod of permission. When I did, he crossed to the other side of the table. Hermione doesn't hesitate to reach down and pet him. I could see his nose twitching to take in her scent, and not a moment later, he wags his tail at the attention. Just the fact that Growlithe accepts her so easily tells him a lot about her character. Outspoken and overly analytical she may be, but if Growlithe liked her that was enough for me.

"I always admired Growlithe. They're meant for a more physical life than one I was likely to give, but aren't they just the most loyal of Pokemon? They're of great use to the police force, and I think even Aurors have been known to use their sense of smell from time to time," she stated as she continued petting.

"You like Pokemon?" I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. After two weeks at Hogwarts, it had become apparent that most witches and wizards don't really value Pokemon, instead choosing to focus on their magical studies.

"Of course!" Hermione seemed just as surprised to hear me ask. "I am a muggleborn after all. Until I found out I was a witch, I had always dreamed about being a Pokemon researcher. Both my parents are Orthodontists, and even they use Pokemon at their surgery. Did you know Chansey can even make fantastic dental nurses?"

After reading through the books that Hagrid had given me, I was familiar with the pink, egg holding Pokemon that are so widely used in the medical community. I nodded emphatically. "I knew that they were used in Pokemon Center's and doctor's surgeries, but even dental practices?"

Hermione nodded several times, a beaming smile on her face at the thought of being able to speak about something she would deem academic. I got the distinct impression that she didn't have many friends, and idly, I wondered why she and Neville hadn't seemed to find each other. Surely as two loners in the same house they were a perfect match for friendship?

I smiled my way through the oncoming conversation. For the first time with other students, it didn't seem forced or fake, either. Before long, Neville was talking too, not knowing anywhere near as much as Hermione—or apparently me—on the subject of Pokemon, but still appreciating them enough to involve himself in the conversation. If this was what it felt like to have friends, then Hogwarts might not be so bad.

Morpeko was waiting for me back at Hagrid's, just as he was after most mealtimes. He sat on the stoop of Hagrid's hut, but not alone. Instead, he was being scratched under the chin by Remus. He was fortunately in his cute buck toothed form rather than his more aggressive and sinister hangry form. His little foot was tapping on the ground as Remus scratched his chin.

"Hullo, Harry," Remus said when Hagrid, Growlithe, and I approached. "I figured you wouldn't be long. Seems this little one thought the same."

Morpeko let out a happy sort of squeak when he turned to see me, abandoning Remus's scritches on Hagrid's front step and bounding over to rub his face onto my leg. Just a few meals is all it took to win the little mouse Pokemon's heart. Nearly every day he'd been at Hagrid's waiting for me—multiple times a day, sometimes—to the point that I'd taken with filling my pockets with seeds to give him at any time.

Morpeko took a step back and bounced on his feet in excitement for the food he knew was coming his way. His tiny cheeks sparked with electricity in his happy state, and he held out his tiny hands to reach for the seeds—never mind the fact he was about a foot and a half too short. With a smile and a small, but fond, shake of my head at his gluttony, I grabbed a small pinch of the seeds and dropped them into his cupped hands, enough to fill them completely. He greedily stuffed some in his mouth and placed the rest in his furry, little pockets for safekeeping. Growlithe stood off to the side, trusting Morpeko enough now that he wouldn't have to step in and protect me from his hangry temper tantrums, but still nearby just in case.

Like every other day, Morpeko, still chewing on the seeds, gave my leg another quick hug before running off on all fours and disappearing into the forest behind the hut. Hagrid let out a hearty laugh.

"You sure yeh don't want to catch the little fella?" he asked. "That little critter already loves you."

It wasn't the first time the topic had come up. It had only taken a few days before Morpeko had lost any anxiety about being around me—and by extension Growlithe and Hagrid as well—and had become rather affectionate. Still, I didn't really want to catch him. Honestly, I wasn't really sure about the whole 'catching' thing in general. To me, it just felt as though I would be taking a Pokemon away from its home and life, no matter how much Hagrid tried to tell me it wasn't like that at all. Besides, Morpeko always ran off after a very short visit. If anything, that was a clear answer to me how he felt.

"He's right you know," Remus added. "Morpeko would be a fabulous Pokemon for you. If you want some pokeballs, just say the word…"

They both knew my position, so to me, it wasn't worth answering. A deadpan look did the trick. They clearly knew my answer, not that I knew it would stop them from bringing it up again. While Morpeko seemed happy living in the forest and exploring the grounds of Hogwarts, I didn't want to interfere with his life too much. If I could just make his life a little easier by finding him food so he wouldn't have to go into his hangry state and get physically removed from the castle, that was enough for me.

"What brings you here so early?" I asked Remus, reaching out to grasp his hand and help him to his feet—though, realistically, I probably didn't help him much. He'd been coming to Hagrid's every day since I had been there, usually to help me continue my muggle education and just genuinely keep my company while Hagrid worked, but never so early in the morning. From the excited glint in his eye, it was easy to see that he was up to something.

Remus reached for a long cardboard box leaning against Hagrid's front door and held it under his arm. "I actually came to give you something. You mind if we go inside, Hagrid?"

Hagrid held out his hands and nodded once. "How did't turn out?" he asked. I looked between the men, probably looking as confused as I felt. Obviously Hagrid was in on whatever this was, too. Growlithe stood underneath, nose up in the air, but it didn't seem he could get an accurate gleam on what it was either—not that he could tell me even if he did.

Remus shrugged his shoulders. "It should fit well enough—but it is experimental. I just hope it works."

Despite my questioning glances, neither wanted to just blurt out what was inside the box. It was especially surprising for Hagrid. Even after only knowing him for two weeks, I knew how much he hated not being able to talk about something. The half-giant definitely struggled to keep his mouth shut—though that was also one of the reasons I loved him.

I crutched inside after Remus and watched him place the box on Hagrid's kitchen table. "What's with all the secrecy?" I had to ask.

Remus shakes his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Harry, I'm not tryingto be secretive. I just didn't want to tell you anything until there was something to actually tell."

What on earth is he talking about?

"Just… try to keep an open mind?"

As if that wasn't foreboding.

Remus reached into the box and pulled out something long and silver. I recognized it immediately and scowled. It was a leg brace, the kind that doctors had been trying on me for years to help me walk. They'd never been successful. Not only did it mean I couldn't bend my leg, which meant it would be more of a hobble than a walk, but it still meant that I had to put pressure on my leg, and I couldn't. Trying to put any weight on my cursed leg only resulted in pain and me falling on my ass.

"No way," I said, probably sounding petulant. Growlithe, probably sensing my emotions, barked at the object—upset because I was. I couldn't even get across that I was grateful to the thought. I'd spoken to him before about how nothing else worked but crutches. They were the only way I could get around on my own without having to put any pressure on my leg at all. No brace the doctors had prescribed had ever worked, and I didn't want to start feeling sorry for myself by trying another. I already knew the outcome.

"Harry, just—"

"Remus, you know they don't work," I snapped. "I told you that nothing works but the crutches. I've accepted that my leg will always be like this, so why can't you?"

I knew even as the words left my mouth that it was a low blow and entirely undeserved. When it came to my leg and people trying to make it better, however, my experience was that nothing could work. I didn't want to raise my hopes just to have them dashed.

Remus looked wretched, as if I'd come out and said that I hated his guts. Still, he was determined to get his way. "I did say to keep an open mind… this isn't like the other braces you've tried in the past. I had this brace custom built for exactly your size—"

I opened my mouth to argue that doctors had tried that in the past, but Remus shook his head and lifted a hand to stop me from interrupting.

"'Arry, just hear him out," Hagrid interrupted softly.

Remus smiled briefly at the half giant as I let out a frustrated sigh.

"As I was saying, it should fit you perfectly, but more than that the metal will contract and expand to allow you to bend your leg. I've placed an assortment of charms on it that should in theory make it so there's no pressure on your leg itself. The brace should take the impact of every step," Remus continued.

I didn't want to believe it. I didn't believe it. So many times I'd been let down.

'This should work.'

'He should be able to walk with this.'

Countless doctors and even some mediwizards had tried time and time again to fix my leg. When that didn't work, they moved towards strategies to alleviate pain and pressure. Nothing ever worked. But Remus spoke with such confidence and conviction and even a little hope that a part of me started to hope with him, and I hated it. Growlithe whined and nudged the hand I didn't even realize was clenched, and when that didn't work, he glared at the offending object. Unfortunately, this was one thing he couldn't protect me from.

"I know you don't want to get your hopes up," Remus said softly, looking me dead in the eye. "I also don't want to hurt you if it doesn't work… but I could never forgive myself for not doing everything I can to make your life easier. Could you try? For me?"

After a long and fairly tense silence, I nodded slowly. I would try for Remus. Even if that meant wallowing in despair later. I leaned my crutches against the table before sitting down. "So, how does it work?"

As it turned out, the way it was meant to work was pretty simple. It fit around my leg in much the same way as every brace I'd tried before, tight enough that I could feel it press ever so slightly into my skin. That fact alone was nearly enough to tell Remus to call it off. It all felt so familiar. The difference was Remus. He placed the brace on gingerly, so utterly careful not to cause me any pain that it was hard to doubt him at all. All he wanted was to make my life a little easier.

"Alright," Remus said after fastening it in place. "Ready to try and take a step?" He took several steps back until he was on the other side of the room. Suddenly, he looked to be all nerves, which of course did nothing for my confidence on the matter. Still, there was a determined glint underneath. He had enough hope that it would work for the both of us. I climbed out of my seat, keeping one hand on the giant table for stability with Growlithe on standby.

I took a step.

There was no pain, just the almost inaudible sound of the metal grinding against itself. I froze in shock after the first step. My mind went blank, as if unable to process this new feeling.

"How was that? I can make some adjustments if its not comfortable—"

I didn't answer, but I felt my mouth twist into a small, hopeful smile. My heart leapt to my throat, not in fear, but for once in hope.

I took another step.

And another.

And another.

I jumped the last step straight into Remus, crashing into him hard as I wrapped my arms firmly around his waist. Unbidden tears flowed from my eyes, wetting Remus's robe, not that he seemed to mind. His arms came up to squeeze my shoulders, and on the top of my head, I felt the light drips of tears, too. Growlithe cheerfully howled and barked and pranced around my feet true to his puppy nature like he couldn't believe what was happening. I was barely sure I could believe it either. It felt like I was still dreaming, but the feeling was starkly contrasted to this morning's nightmare.

I walked.

It was the only thought I could manage to make, other than a feeling of the utmost gratitude towards the man that had shown me more fatherly affection than anyone else in my life. I wanted to feel guilty for how I felt earlier and for the ugly words I said to him. I wanted to get it out—to apologize or to thank him or just to say something—but the words were stuck in my throat. I felt choked, but in a good way, and that was a very new feeling for me. What words could I have said that would be enough, anyway? What Remus had made happen was nothing short of a miracle. Wizarding magic was nothing new to me. I had seen it, people had tried it. But this felt like real magic, and I couldn't help but wonder if this is how Muggleborns felt when they first discovered they were magical. It felt like a whole new world of possibilities and opportunities opened up.

For the first time in my life, I started to really believe that my luck had changed. Between Remus, Growlithe, Hagrid, and now this miraculous brace, it was like after years of ignorance the universe had finally started to notice me.

I walked.

Notes

So this took quite a while! Sorry about that. I've been writing quite a lot though (on all my fics not just this one), at least 500 words a day for the past couple weeks except for a couple of days when I had long days at work. Hope this chapter isn't boring for you all! I wasn't totally sure about it but alas self-doubt is a feeling I'm more than used to at this point.

Join my discord! As always feel free to ask any questions or if you want to suggest a Pokemon for Harry! I've decided on maybe 5 of them? No reason he can't have more than a team of six though so feel free!